Witness
by PandaPjays
Summary: Hilary has always sat outside Kenny's lab while he works. She tells herself it's because someone needs to witness the amount of work he does. Hilary's particularly good at lying to herself. KennyHilary


I've always wanted to write KennyHilary. They were my first Bey pairing- well before I started reading _any _fanfiction, let alone the amazingness that is this fandom. Something about the way they interact in the first few episodes of Grev just gives me happy feelings all over.

Anyways, so with that long term love I've got going for this couple I wrote this from Hilary's POV set a few years after Grev.

I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own. Just play.

* * *

It's cold out here. It always is in hallways, though. No matter what kind of heating they put in a building, the hallways are always going to be cold.

And...is that _frost?_

Yes. Yes that is frost. That's just great. Here I am, doing the great supportive-yet-totally-not-stalker thing outside the labs and I happen to be doing it on the coldest night _ever_.

I pull my knees up to my body and hug them tightly. Not that trying to warm my extremities with my equally cold extremities is likely to do much difference but it's the thought that counts, right? When they find my frozen body they won't be able to say that I went without a fight.

How would one fight against the cold, I wonder? Would it be, like, me against this terrifying icicle-demon made of ice and fear with me being armed only with a blankie?

Maybe a hot water bottle.

No, definitely a blankie. One of those really fluffy ones that you swear you could drown in if it were made of water.

Okay, so hypothermia may make my mind wander just a touch.

I sit up and peak into the room I'm sitting outside of. The sole light comes from the glaring computer screen and even _that's _being blocked by the head of the man working tirelessly in front of it.

Well, not tirelessly. Every now and again the light becomes much brighter because he's getting some more coffee. So _mostly_ tirelessly then.

Someone should really turn on another light in there. He's going to ruin his eyes. _More_. You wonder why he's got such huge glasses.

So I guess you're probably wondering why I'm out here freezing my arse off in a hallway and worrying about Kenny's eyesight?

...Actually, that's a really good question. When I have the answer I'll get back to you on that. Until then let's just go with the fact that _someone_ needs to see and appreciate this.

Or, more specifically, see and appreciate the cold, blank wall and pay unnatural amounts of attention to fluctuations in computer-light.

I know what you're thinking. Creepy Hilary! Creepy! If you like the guy, just go talk to him for God's sake! Don't hang around in hallways giving yourself excuses about wanting to witness the amount of work the Chief puts into this.

Because, for him, there is only the work he puts into this. So, in conclusion, here I am freezing my buttocks off.

Most fan boys and girls only see the surface of beyblading, the sport. They see Tyson running around and yelling like an idiot, they see Kai acting all cool with leaping flames going everywhere. I suppose they also see all the other bladers doing fairly awesome things as well (The number of training sessions and matches I've been to? _Nothing_ impresses me anymore. Leaping columns of electricity? Done. Improbably large dangerous animals? _So_ done. _Freaking Gods of Darkness?_ Whatevs, man).

Sure, there's been a lot of time and effort put into that side of things. You haven't seen a training session until you've seen Kai's training sessions. Every now and then even _I _start to feel sorry for Tyson. Not often, mind you, but it does happen. But a lot of what you see in the beydish is just special effects. If nothing else, those guys know how to put on a show.

The technical side of the sport- the side that actually determines who wins or loses regardless of how cool they can make their special attacks look- is done behind the scenes. And for us, it's done by the Chief.

Kenny and I have an arrangement going on these nights: I don't interrupt his work and he doesn't comment on my presence. I need to be here just as much as he needs his all-important work.

I actually don't know how many nights I've sat here in increasingly cold hallways while he works- inventing new technologies and techniques that would make the most sophisticated laboratories jealous. I don't know why he hasn't left us to go work in one of those labs, really. It'd probably be a much more glamorous job with a lot more appreciation than what he gets here from his friends.

You see, that's the problem, isn't it? We're his friends and, being Kenny, he doesn't see the distinction between friendship and professionalism. To him, because we are his friends any and all work of his is rightfully ours. All the hours he puts in are inconsequential as long as it helps us achieve our goals.

In that way, he's an idiot.

Despite the long hours and the countless cups of coffee and the effort involved in creating this incredible technology, the most he ever gets is a '_Thanks Chief'_ as Tyson or Daichi run out the door. That's generally reduced to a nod from the older members.

That selflessness, though, is one of the things I admire most about him.

I don't think the rest of the team really understand how much work goes into perfecting the machines that have made them so famous. They just know that whenever they hand their blades to the Chief they'll come back better than they ever dreamed possible.

And so I sit here, night after freezing night because _someone _has to witness how much work goes on behind the scenes. Because God knows Kenny will never tell and someone needs to let him know how we couldn't function without him.

Really, how I couldn't function without him. Compared to the other people I hang out with, Kenny is... I don't want to call him special because that would make me sound like a walking (More sitting at the moment) cliché. He is the one who puts up with my stupid moods and listens patiently to every harebrained scheme I come up with. He's much more intelligent than I could ever be but he refuses to rub that in, normally content to just listen while I prattle. Most importantly, he bravely tries my cooking every time I produce something despite years of experience telling him that it'll probably end badly.

He's my rock and I love him for that.

I start as a warm blanket is placed around my shoulders. I look up into the almost-opaque glasses of the man I've been musing about.

"It's freezing out here. Come inside." He holds out a hand to help me up.

I try to stand without his help and fail miserably. Seems that cold isn't good for the leg muscles. That is, of course, assuming that I've still got leg muscles and they haven't detached themselves completely to go holiday somewhere where the temperature is slightly _above_ freeing-my-arse-off degrees. "Are you done for the night?" I ask once I'm safely on my feet.

He makes an amused sound. "Not even close. I'm trying to find a way I can further increase the speed of Driger without impacting upon the stability. The problem is that it's about as aerodynamic as it's ever going to get and-"

I nod absently as we walk into the fully-heated room. It's not that I don't care about the techno-babble. I really do. Otherwise I'd be just like the rest who don't understand the amount of work that goes into those tiny spinning tops. It's more that Kenny's forever trying to improve this or that aspect but finding that he's already perfected it.

Instead of taking that as a win, like any normal, sane person would, I think Kenny sees perfection as a _challenge_.

"-so then I was thinking that if I incorporated the design into the attack ring it would further reduce the friction and make it a bit more streamlined and if I reduced the defence just a fraction more he'd be able to get just that little bit more speed he could use to avoid being hit directly by _any_ attack," he finishes, excited.

"Sounds... good." I hazard, looking down at Rei's beyblade reduced to its component parts.

I can _feel_ him smile. "You have no idea what I just said, do you?"

"None whatsoever," I reply happily, glad that we understand each other.

"Do you want to know?" He asks with that mixture of excitement and fear that comes into every enthusiast's voice whenever they're given a chance to explain their fascination. The excitement is there because they never thought they'd be given a chance to tell anyone but the fear betrays that they know how rare it would be to find someone who shares their passion.

I shake my head with a smile. "Not really. I don't want you to have to dumb it down for me. Can I watch, though?"

A guilty flush passes across his face, almost faster than I can register it. Hah! He was totally thinking about how to dumb it down for poor, old Hilary. I'll have you know that I'm actually quite intelligent- just in different, less beyblade-practical ways.

"Of course you can watch. It's not going to be that interesting, though. I'm only considering possibilities at the moment. Rei doesn't need this done for another month so I'm taking my time and really going over it"

I wave a hand dismissively. "I've been staring at a wall for the past four hours. I'm sure I'll cope."

"...Yeah." He says quietly before turning back to the parts on the bench.

His heart isn't in it anymore, though. His movements aren't quite as sure as they normally are and you can see that he's actually having to work in order to think about these complex things that, just minutes ago, came to him as naturally as breathing.

I've interrupted his flow.

But I can't really say I'm sorry about it.

For years I've been watching Kenny from the other side of the glass as he creates and refines things that I couldn't even dream of. Now, even with the flow interrupted, I can _feel_ what he's doing. That absolute concentration- while a bit wavery in my presence- is there giving the room an electric feel of tension. Now I can see the way he picks up each part and passes them through expert fingers, finding the faults by feel as his mind wrestles with the solution to his problems. It's mesmerising.

"...Can you help me with this?" he asks, holding up what looks like Driger's base. "I need you to hold this part," he shows me a little spring-loaded flap, "open while I work."

"Of course." I try to grab the flap he's holding and fumble it. "Oh, crap." I mutter as I try to hold it, "It's smaller than I thought."

I _swear_ I see him suppress a smirk. "Got it?" he asks.

"_Just_. How do you normally do this anyway?"

"Quickly," he replies simply before leaning over my arm to look at the inner workings of the base. I can see his ears turning red as he realises just _how_ close this brings us.

I never actually realised how nice Kenny's hair smells. I mean, you'd hope that he took care of it considering how often he uses it to hide his eyes but it really is lovely up close. With his head bent so close to mine the tangy, tropical scent of what I'm assuming is his shampoo is overpowering.

But in a good way.

My hand slips and the flap snaps down on to Kenny's fingers.

"OW!" Kenny pulls back quickly, his head colliding with mine which, upon reflection, was possibly a little too close.

I reel back holding my nose which feels like it's just doubled in size. I'm going to feel that in the morning.

...Or now. Y'know, whatever.

"Owowowowowowowowowowow"

Kenny echoes my sentiments, holding the back of his head and hissing softly.

We catch sight of each other and pause.

His mouth quirks in a little smile that soon gives way to a snicker.

I grin, taking my hands away from my face. "Oops?" I try my best innocent smile.

"...Maybe it's best if I do this by myself." He suggests, that smile still playing around his lips.

"Probably."

Kenny turns back to the beyblade, once again focussing on the task. He opens the flap and, in a practised move, holds it open with two fingers while the using the others to do whatever it is that he's doing.

"Why are you here, anyway? Most people are asleep by-" he glances up to check the clock on his computer, "-_all_ people are asleep by now."

He can _talk_ while he's concentrating? That's... unusual- yes, going to go with unusual. In my experience, once something has taken up a boy's attention nothing, _especially_ not conversation, can get in the way of that concentration. Then again, my experience with boys is pretty limited to professional beybladers who practice this kind of no-distractions-ever concentration. Whenever Tyson gets into that state of mind you could literally wave bacon under his nose and he wouldn't react. Trust me, I've tried.

But back to the conversation. The conversation where Kenny's just asked me a question which I don't quite know how to answer.

"I...Ah..."

Oh, well done me. _Very_ articulate.

He smiles again, never taking his eyes off his task. "I don't mind. It's nice having company when I'm working." He pauses, his tongue slipping out of the corner of his mouth as he wrestles with a particularly delicate task. "I've always wondered why you don't come in, though."

"I didn't want to disturb you."

He pauses and looks over at me. If I could see his eyes I'd bet he's doing that eyebrow raise plus sceptical look Kai's so good at. "And so you sit out in the freezing corridor?"

"...Something like that." Okay, so when you put it like that it doesn't sound sane. I mean, it's not like I'm doing it in order to be creepy I just... do. I always thought he was too engrossed in his work to notice little stalker me.

He lets the flap shut with a little _snap_ and looks over at me, a small smile on his lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Though, I have to admit that the freezing part wasn't exactly planned. Hallways are just _like_ that."

He laughs. "True. I've never understood that. Maybe it has something to do with the tiles?"

I make a noncommittal noise as I watch him begin to pack up for the night. Everything has its place in his workshop, I've noticed. Every randomly shaped bit of metal, every impossibly tiny screw, every ridiculously task-specific tool. It all has a place somewhere within the lab.

"Hilary" his voice breaks the silence that has fallen between us., "...Can I ask you something?" He's gone bright red. It's kind of adorable, actually.

"Always."

"Would you... like to go out with me sometime?"

I stop and stare. Did I just hear that? Kenny? _My_ Kenny? Kenny who would never look at me in that way because I'm only a friend? Kenny who works tirelessly trying to perfect perfection? Kenny who's too busy achieving perfection to notice something as mundane as my stupid crush on him?

At my pause, a look of horror crosses his face. "I mean-"

Shit! I didn't mean to pause. Of course! Of course I'll go out with you! I need to think of something to stop him panicking! Quick! Quick! Think Hilary Think!

I lean forward and touch my lips with his before pulling back and smiling. "I thought you'd never ask."

Did I say before that he went bright red? I was wrong. He's _now_ bright red. Last time was only a teaser. He pushes back his fringe to stare at me with his dark blue eye checking my face for any hint of teasing. "...Really?"

I grin and pull him forward for another kiss. "Really Really."

* * *

Please tell me what you think.

Seriously, reviewing will take you maybe a thousandth of the time I took to write this and will bestow good karma upon you and those you love/may have seen in the past decade.

Also it may stop me cursing the sadistic person who decided that the hit/visitor counter was _a good idea_.


End file.
